The Graveyard Shift
by daybreakstones
Summary: Graveyard shift/noun/a work shift that runs through the early morning hours, typically covering the period between midnight and 8 a.m.   A little LunaKaoru.


I don't own MWS.

**The Graveyard Shift**

_graveyard shift/noun/a work shift that runs through the early morning hours, typically covering the period between midnight and 8 a.m._

'Cut.'

Kaoru shifts his gaze to his co-pilot, who is glaring angrily at him. His eyebrows crease together in puzzlement. Since the group's return from the (now non-existent) terraforming ship, _something_ has made Kaoru uneasy. He raises an eyebrow, questioning.

'Honestly. Your cheek. I'll be right back,' Luna disables her controls and stomps out of the room.

Kaoru reaches for his cheek and touches the wound. _Oh._ It stung when he sneezed earlier. Felt as if he had bust the half-healed scab. (_He did._)

It suddenly occurs to him that the reason she volunteered to stay up with him as co-pilot probably had something to do with the aforementioned wound.

He stares out the window – and having arrived to an understanding – now untroubled by her outburst, and waits patiently for her to come back and treat the cut. She knows him well enough to not to ask for his permission to treat his injuries, because she knows he would refuse. Kaoru allows himself a (rather small) smile when he realizes _he _knows her well enough to understand her actions.

He hears two sets of footfalls approaching and the makeshift leaf-door-curtain rustle open. Kaoru waits until Luna and her companion have sat down next to him before turning his eyes away from the unchanging landscape. Chako is holding the nano-neutralizing emitter, turning the machine around in her paws. She looks a little irritated at being unceremoniously interrupted when she was literally recharging her batteries.

'The virus nanomachines might've gotten inside that wound,' Luna explains. Her face darkens. 'I was wondering when you'd start to ask for help for...' She swipes a finger across her right cheek. '...That.'

'It doesn't hurt. I disinfected the cut once we got back in the afternoon,' Kaoru replies. Preempting her retort, he adds, 'It's impossible to bandage it unless I swathe my face with fabric, anyway.'

Luna and Chako exchange a confused look, then something lights up behind their eyes. Luna gets up from her seat and searches in a niche in an unassuming corner of the room, pulling out a (slightly charred) box embellished with a red cross and brandishes a box of bandaids at him. 'I fished them out of the cargo box the second time I went, when you were fishing for...fish,' she says, unable to hide a smile.

His expression stuck between a scowl and one of amusement, Kaoru lets her disinfect the wound (again) and she gingerly sticks a plaster on his cheek. Luna lifts Chako up to take his temperature (which is normal) and check him for malignant nanomachines (none). He smirks (_as expected_, he thinks) and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Chako nods her approval and decides to check on the engine room before finishing up her charge. What little spoken words they have exchanged quickly dwindles to nothing and the room soon becomes quiet; save for the faint whirrs of the machines that keep the Orion afloat. And so, they sit in a comfortable silence.

Kaoru stares blankly into the horizon, distracted by a vague (and slightly frightening) idea on why he cannot stop replaying the moment when her fingertips brushed his cheek. His eyes flicker inadvertently to her, where he finds that she has – judging from her start – probably been contemplating him for a while now. Both look away in mild embarrassment.

'I mean it, Kaoru,' Luna is the first to talk. Determined blue eyes fix themselves onto shrewd brown ones. 'Stop being so stupid.'

Had Kaoru been a certain, denser, blond-haired brat, he would've taken that statement at face value. But he wasn't; he understood what she was trying to say: 'You stupid hypocrite. We already have one crazy, self-sacrificing person in our group. Stop jumping into danger every time someone else is in it.' The corners of his mouth twist into a wry smile.

'You too.'

A laugh escapes her lips before she can stop it. 'Too late.' She drops the grin as quickly as it appeared and sighs. 'I don't want to lose anyone else. Especially you guys.' She gestures at him and at the rooms behind them, where five fellow humans and an alien child are sleeping.

'But we can afford to lose you?'

Luna freezes. 'I value life, I really do – it's just...I don't...' Her voice trails off. She tries again. 'I value life, but if it means I can save someone else with it, it's definitely worth it.' Luna's voice becomes soft. 'Definitely, _definitely_ worth it.'

Evidently embarrassed, Luna drags her eyes back to meet Kaoru's. 'Sometimes, I think it's the same for you. I can't afford to lose you. Any of you. But we do it anyway. Kind of makes us...like partners-in-crime, in a sense. Guilty of the same crime. Oh, this is so weird. Sorry for saying weird things.' But she extends her hand anyway.

He accepts her unspoken apology and clasps her hand. Kaoru feels her slim fingers slack with surprise. 'Partners,' she whispers. She raises their interlaced hands like a trophy, with more of the usual enthusiasm he has learned to put up with – perhaps with a little (grudging) respect. She grins. 'An toast-'

'A pact,' he interrupts. 'A promise, for us to not lose each other – or anyone else, that is,' he corrects quickly. 'A pact...to live.' Kaoru mumbles the last few words. His words come out sounding stupid and he is suddenly painfully aware of himself – the plaster on his face, his hand still in the air – and looks at his feet.

'A pact,' Luna echoes. She smiles at the floor, a curtain of hair obscuring her smile.

Their entwined hands meander down from their suspended (and slightly numb) position to rest on the little counter between them.

Neither of them let go.

END.


End file.
